


Trial by Combat

by kscho



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, I love her, OF MY LIFE, also canon dialogue, duel for love, i love josephine montilyet, is it weird i have a little crush on Otranto?, the number one wife of my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 03:10:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18002690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscho/pseuds/kscho
Summary: Senna Trevelyan travels alone to Val Royeaux, armed with Leliana's information and quick wit, to duel Lord Otranto for Josie's hand.





	Trial by Combat

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea that my Trevelyan was injured so she has to walk with a cane for a while so bear with me

Senna loved hiding in plain sight. Everywhere she went, the banners and soldiers of the Inquisition followed. Finally, if only for a little bit, she could just be Senna Trevelyan. She sipped  on her tea, people-watching in the middle of Val Royeaux. She had little love for Orlesians, but even her Free Marcher spirit had to admit the architecture and culture was certainly something. Everyone was always doing something, whether just for themselves or for the Game. Plenty of people milled around with masks on. 

Still, she wasn’t in Val Royeaux to enjoy the views. She peered through the crowds, searching for Antivans rather than Orlesians. She had no idea what Otranto looked like, but she figured she would know when she saw him. Having done her research on Antivan dueling, she’d left her staff behind, wondering what weapons Otranto would have them use. Sighing and putting her tea down, she glanced at her right leg, still healing from a red lyrium pike that had speared her knee at the literal worst possible time. She wasn’t too confident about her dueling abilities. Or any sort of physical abilities, really.

“Hmm,” Senna hummed, spotting an Antivan with two guards tailing him. He seemed to be scanning the courtyard for someone. Then his gaze settled on her. She smirked, silently admitting that he looked like a formidable man. Even a little good-looking. Senna rose from her seat, grabbing her cane and approaching the man. He watched her, his lips curling into a little grin as his eyes darted to her bad leg.

“I am Lord Otranto of Antiva,” he introduced himself, giving a slight bow, “rightfully betrothed of Lady Josephine Montilyet.”

Senna switched her cane to her left hand and stuck out the right, mirroring his grin. Whatever happened in the coming moments, she couldn’t say that she didn’t try. “Senna Trevelyan,” she returned. “Inquisitor, Herald of Andraste, and all that jazz.” He raised an eyebrow, but shook her hand nonetheless. He then turned to his guards, taking a rapier from each of them. 

“Songs of your exploits have spread to my city, Inquisitor,” he continued. “It’s humbling to make your acquaintance.” He tossed one of the rapiers at Senna, and she barely managed to catch it with one hand. “It is a pity it will not last longer.”

It seemed there would be no further preamble. Senna set her cane against the fountain nearby and tested the rapier in her right hand. Light, not at all like the swords she had used when practicing with Cassandra, Blackwall, or Cullen. One sided blade. Mostly for stabbing and jabbing, not swinging and slashing like most swords. She gave a little huff at the blade, wishing she had her staff in her hands instead. Otranto began circling, so Senna followed, keeping him opposite of her as best as she could with her injured knee.

“Before we duel, I trust you find the weapon to your satisfaction?” Otranto asked, his grey eyes practically gleaming with something like pride and boyish excitement. He figured her for a farce. Something that was easily brushed off the table with the back of his hand.

Senna chuckled. “Not particularly,” she snarked. “Never liked these little dainty blades. I prefer to make a lasting mark. But, rapiers will do if you’re out of your depth with a more  _ substantial _ weapon.”

Otranto laughed at the light jab. “Very good.” He twirled his blade and struck a stance. “Let us begin.”

_ Oh, fuck! _ ran through Senna’s thoughts as she deflected the first strike. Several more followed.  _ I’m a mage, not an Antivan! _ she laughed in her head.  _ Want me to throw some lightning? No problem.  _ She dealt a few slashes of her own, each of them deflected or dodged.  _ Want me to raise a few skeletons from the dirt? Dorian would be proud. _ Her knee twisted painfully and she fell on it, crying out. Otranto jabbed his blade at her, but she rolled to her side and back to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain.

“An admirable start, Inquisitor,” Otranto complimented her, his eyes lacking a bit of that gleam she had spotted earlier. “How is it you came to be injured?”

“Red templars,” Senna shrugged. “Some of them have taken to fashioning weapons out of red lyrium. Hurt like a fucking bitch, too.” She smirked and tipped her head, lunging forward. He blocked her swipe, but stumbled just a little bit. “Still! I’m here, I’m fighting, I haven’t  _ completely _ collapsed yet, so I’d say I’m doing pretty good.”

Otranto gave a curt nod. “Perhaps House Trevelyan isn’t the obscure backwater I’ve heard it to be.”

Just as Senna was about to point out that she harbored no great love for her “family,” she had to bend backwards to avoid the tip of his sword. Her knee protested again, and this time she  _ did _ completely collapse to the ground with a groan. Thinking quickly when Otranto threw a downward swing, Senna clapped her boots together, trapping the blade between them. She barked out a laugh and twisted it out of his grasp, giving her enough time to get to her feet again and a safe distance away.

There were plenty of people watching them from all over the courtyard. Senna was at least happy that  _ some _ people were enjoying themselves of this sunny Tuesday afternoon. She briefly spotted a coin purse pass between two merchants. A silver was tossed across a table at the cafe she had been waiting at. She spared a half a second to smirk at the idea before glaring at Otranto.

“I’m glad Lady Montilyet isn’t here, exquisite as I’ve heard her appearance to be,” Otranto drawled. He was regaining that cocky-yet-polite attitude.

He got in a lucky strike that made Senna stutter in her rhythm, and advanced on her slowly. She tried to knock his blade away, but he held it firmly aloft. She ducked under his blade and jabbed the pommel of her sword blindly into his hip, eliciting a gasp from him, but nothing more. They exchanged a few harsh blows, sparks flying to the flagstones. He grabbed her arm at the same time as she grabbed his, and they were dramatically locked, glaring at each other, separated by two blades.

“Cutting you down in front of Josephine would’ve given a poor first impression of House Otranto to my bride,” he spat.

“Don’t worry,” Senna chuckled. “I’ll be sure to tell Josephine you fought bravely.”

He growled and kicked at her bad knee. She fell flat on her back, grimacing, but still blocking another downward swing from slicing her face in half. Otranto pinned her down with his own body weight, pressing down with everything he had. Senna kept her own blade up using both hands.

“Strange,” Senna struggled to say, “I would think the Otrantos already had enough blood on their hands after cheating the Terrazas.”

The pressure on her sword lessened significantly. “Who told you-!” Senna snaked her foot up and threw Otranto over her, getting to her feet for the third time, praying it would be the last. Her knee was positively on fire with pain, and she wouldn’t be able to bear it much longer. “You dare to bring up that slander here?” Otranto seethed.

“Oh, shit!” Senna’s heart jumped when he retaliated with far more violent swings. Sloppy swings. She saw an opening and jabbed her blade forward, slicing open the arm of his jacket on his right shoulder, spilling blood. He grunted and held the wound, glaring death at her. “Come on, now!” she taunted. “Remind me, which one of us walks with a cane?”

Murder blazed behind his eyes. “Inquisitor, I will personally-!”

_ “Stop!” _

Two spectators were practically thrown aside by Josephine herself as she rushed into the courtyard. The tension of the duel was shattered in an instant, both parties stepping out of their stances and staring.

“Josephine-”

“Lady Montilyet, what a pleasure to-”

She ignored both voices, marching towards Senna. She dropped her rapier and even took a step back. In order of people she wouldn’t wish to cross, Leliana was first, but Josephine was second. Josie hated violence, but could easily destroy someone in a dozen different ways. Besides, it was never wise to anger someone close to your heart.

“What are you  _ doing _ ?!” Josephine snapped in Senna’s face, jabbing her sternum with a harsh finger.

“I was dueling,” she exclaimed, her cheeks warming. “Him. For you.” When Josephine’s face didn’t change, she blurted out, “Josie, I can’t take the chance that you might have to marry him!”

“That’s not your decision!” she countered, shaking her head. She turned away, practically pacing. “The Inquisition needs you!  _ I _ need you! Yet you threw yourself into danger!” She spun around. Senna knew she was truly angry because a few strands of her raven hair had fallen free of her pins. Josie  _ never  _ let her hair rebel. “Why do this?” she demanded. “Why risk everything we’ve built? Why risk your  _ life _ ?!”

Senna almost choked on her laughter. “Because I love you!” she shouted, spreading her arms as if it was obvious.

Josephine froze in place, her eyebrows shooting to the heavens. “You...you do?”

“She does?” Otranto added, sounding genuinely surprised.

“You heard me!” Senna cried. “I, Senna Augustina Trevelyan,  _ love Lady Ambassador Josephine Cherette Montilyet _ !” She lowered her voice and put on that smile Josie loved so much. “I love you, Josie.”

“I love you, too,” she returned. 

She ran at Senna, and although it made her want to chop off her knee to stop the intense pain, Senna caught her in her arms, spinning her once. She kissed her then. Damned if all of Val Royeaux was there to witness it. She didn’t care. She was only concerned about Josephine’s lips on hers and the way she looked, felt, and smelled entirely of  _ Josephine _ . The woman she loved. She held her close, placing another kiss to her temple and laughing. The sound of a sword being sheathed tore her attention away. Lord Otranto crossed an arm over his chest and bowed once again.

“Well fought,” he said, grinning.

“Lord Otranto-” Josie started.

“I’d assumed your liaison with the Inquisitor was an affair of passion or convenience, Lady Montilyet.” He smirked at the two. “But I’m not fool enough to stand in the way of true affection. The Otrantos regretfully withdraw the terms of our betrothal.”

After a too-long moment of silence, Senna nudged Josie with her arm. “Thank you!” Josephine managed.

“Do not thank me. I know when I am outmatched.” He winked at Senna.

“We’re having a rematch as soon as I get my knee unfucked,” Senna declared, chuckling when Josie gasped at her profanity.

“I look forward to that day,” Otranto said. “Farewell.”

Senna turned her attention back to the woman of the hour. She tucked one of the runaway curls of hair behind her ear. “In hindsight, I should have mentioned the duel.”

“You should have.”

“But then you might not have let me go.”

“Definitely not.”

“So I didn’t.”

“You  _ definitely _ did not.”

“But I love you.”

Josephine giggled. “I love you, too. Do kiss me again.”

So she did.

\---

Senna lived for moments like these. When her quarters were pleasantly drowning in fire and candlelight. When she was flat on her back on her sofa in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth. When Josephine was with her, snuggled atop her, keeping mind of Senna’s injured leg. Senna stared at the ceiling, lost in thought about herself while Josephine enjoyed a nap. She worried about a constant number of things, most of them Inquisition related. She worried about her knee most of all. It was getting better, but not fast enough. She had an idea to speak to Dagna about making some sort of brace that would keep the pain at bay so she could go back to her fully active self in the field.

She sighed, trying to think positively about the future of the Inquisition. So far, everything was running relatively smoothly. They were getting closer and closer to the endgame. The thought secretly terrified her. Too many unknowns. She shifted her leg, hearing both her hip and her knee crack loudly. She brought a hand to her mouth to bite back a groan with her knuckle. Josephine stirred at her movement, slowly waking up. 

“Sorry, love,” Senna murmured, kissing her forehead.

“Is it your knee?” Josie mumbled, rearranging herself but settling back down. “Would it help if I-”

“Don’t worry over it, you’re perfect right where you are.”

“I can’t stop thinking about your duel in Val Royeaux.” Senna smiled at the memory, only a few short days old. “Running into the middle of the crowd, the noise, the swords flashing… I was so worried for you, but at the same time… Well, it was the most exciting thing I’ve seen in ages.”

Senna snickered. “You  _ do _ remember what this Inquisition has been doing, yes?”

Josephine looked at her to make sure she saw her eyes roll. “Allow me to correct myself: the most exciting thing I have seen that  _ didn’t _ threaten to stop my heart.”

“Fair enough.”

“You know, when I first laid eyes on you back at Haven, I hadn’t an inkling we’d become so close.”

“At least tell me your breath was stolen away by my incredible beauty,” Senna teased.

Josie giggled. “You are too much.” She rested her head back onto Senna’s chest, sighing. “These moments seem so dear. Especially given your greater calling.”

Senna pressed another kiss into her hair. “The world may want my time, Josephine. But you have my heart.”

“Then I count myself happy.” Josephine shifted so she was straddling her and kissed her properly. “Beyond compare.”

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my new Christmas AU, Merry Christmas From the Ladies Montilyet, for more Senna x Josie fluff!


End file.
